


Nothing Ever Comes Without A Consequence Or A Cost

by TwistedLyssa



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Lisboa's POV, Mentions of Physical Torture, Oc's POV, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Season/Series 03, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-02 10:55:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20274769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedLyssa/pseuds/TwistedLyssa
Summary: [CURRENTLY ON HIATUS FROM THIS]“Her feet were struggling to keep up with her pace. The forest around her was completely silent, probably out of respect. For whom, she didn’t know. The leaves under her soles didn’t dare to crack, and the trees kept still.”Jakarta, an 18 year old girl just out of high school, is a lot better at robbing than she is at history. Her knack for planning leads her to the most famous group of robbers the world has ever known, and her knack for getting into danger leads her to leading said group in yet another robbery.A person robbery, also known as kidnapping.





	1. Chapter 1 (Jakarta's POV)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Quick disclaimer, English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes, I apologize for that here.
> 
> I hope you like it!

She loved when plans worked out. All the cogs turning just at the right time to produce a marvelous result in the end. The dedication, research, intelligence, that went into crafting a flawless plan amazed her. She had a tendency to plan everything out, from her outfit to school work, from game night to how she was going to sneak out without her parents knowing.

She also loved the darker side of life. Navigating through dark alleyways trying to escape death, dealing cards with no regard for her safety. With a plan in her mind, of course.

When she heard the police were searching for wanted criminals in a forest near where she was, she knew it was her chance.

***

Her feet were struggling to keep up with her pace. The forest around her was completely silent, probably out of respect. For whom, she didn’t know. The leaves under her soles didn’t dare to crack, and the trees kept still.

She had to save him. She had to keep him from turning himself in. But you know, it was hard to reach him when he was taller and faster than she was, and when adrenaline was probably running through his entire body.

_ Bang. Bang _ .

In front of her, the man fell to his knees, screaming like he’d been the one on the receiving end of the shot. Good, good, this gave her a big advantage.

She ran until her legs almost gave in. Just before she bumped into the man, she pulled out a piece of black cloth out of her pocket.

“Hey, hey, no need to worry,” she said. The man kept screaming through the cloth in his mouth, clawing at her wrists. “I’m here to save you. And her.”

She realized her grip on the cloth wasn’t good when the man pulled the piece of cloth out of his mouth. “Her?”

“Lisboa.”

“She’s dead.” The man took a step back and cleaned his glasses. She could see in his eyes a twinkle of hope, but she wasn’t sure yet.

“No, she isn’t.”

The man got up and in her face. “Are you deaf? Didn’t you just hear the gunshots?” He kept gesturing towards the general direction of the sound.

“Yeah, I did. I also know she’s alive.” She pushed him away, trying to keep some distance. For a man that didn’t let emotions get the best of him, this was a shock.

“Who are you?”

“I will tell you everything once we’re in my car.”

“I’m not going with you.”

“I’m your only chance at saving her.”

“I don’t even know you, damn it! And what’s your guarantee she’s alive?”

“They just shot into the air to make you think she’s dead. You know, what you did to make them think the group was escaping the bank. Plan Alcatraz. Good plan, but obviously could be fixed.”

She saw his eyes get wider and wider. His mouth was open, but no sound came out of it. She smiled, knowing her plan was now in motion. “Now, let’s go. We don’t have much time.”

***

She drove around, looking at the man in the passenger seat once in a while, just to make sure he didn’t try to turn himself in. Again.

“Who are you?”

“Should I say my real name? You don’t really seem to like it. Call me Jakarta.”

“Who are you?”

“Like I said, I’m your only chance at saving Lisboa.”

“How do you know her name?”

“I’m a good listener.”

“What is going on?”

“You mean why I’m doing this?”

“Yes. Please tell me what the hell is going on!”

“I’m trying to save your group. That includes everyone. It also includes you.”

“Why?”

“Could you please stop with the questions? I’d rather answer them all when we’re together.”

“We’re already together.”

“As we speak, your team is escaping the Bank of Spain through a tunnel that supposedly is filled with cement. When we arrive at the safehouse, they aren’t going to be there yet. They’ll probably arrive when I’m done setting everything up.”

“What?”

“You better hope everyone comes out alive.”

“What the hell are you saying? How do you know so much about this plan?”

“I’m smart, a good listener, and have a knack for planning things. Now, we’ve arrived at our destination.”

Before the man could answer, she was out of the car. In the trunk, there were a few duffel bags she swung over her shoulders. When she closed the trunk, the man she’d basically kidnapped was standing at the entrance to the apartment building.

“Let’s go inside.”

He grabbed her and didn’t let her turn the doorknob. “How do you know this place?”

“You mean your safehouse?”

“Yeah, of course I mean my safehouse!”

She managed to get out of his grip and open the door. Upset, he still followed. “Well,” she started, “you needed a place near the bank that wouldn’t raise much suspicion. This was the only roughed up building in a ten kilometer radius. You also know the police will be searching farther than that, because they think you won’t hide so close to the bank you just robbed.”

“Yes, that was my train of thought.”

“Now, let’s go up because by the screams and shots outside, your friends already escaped.”

***

The room reeked of mint air fresheners. It wasn’t a bad smell, but it wasn’t what she thought an abandoned apartment would smell like.

She put her three duffel bags on the only table available. Inside one, there were scaled models of various buildings. Another one had dolls, toy cars, and a few weapons. You know, the normal for an 18 year old girl.

“You aren’t going to open the third bag?” The man sat in a pile of pillows that had definitely seen better days. His back was to the wall, so he could face the young girl that had just almost kidnapped him. Almost.

“Everyone has their personal belongings.”

With a thud, the door swung open. She looked at the people coming in and immediately recognized everyone coming through.

Tóquio and Rio carried an injured Nairobi with bandages around her left shoulder and blood all over her face. Palermo and Denver held to each other, desperate for something to ease the pain inflicted by police bullets. Behind everyone, Helsinki, Estocolmo and Bogotá carried an absurd amount of bags and weapons.

“Professor, move. We have three injured by bullets, and two still need surgery,” Tóquio said. She nodded towards the pillows he was sitting on, and he immediately got up.

Nairobi fell from Rio’s arms and into a bunch of pillows, clutching her bullet wound. A few seconds later, Palermo and Denver plopped down next to her, with bloody bandages around their wounds.

She had a plan, you see, but the people in it actually needed to be… how do you say it? Ah, yes. Alive.

“Well, I see you’ve managed to escape.”

“Who the hell is this?” Nairobi asked.

“Jakarta, nice to meet you.” She extended her hand for the woman to shake, but got rejected.

The blonde curly haired woman by the door gave up on trying to safely put the weapons to the side and walked over. “How old are you?”

“Estocolmo. Motherly instincts kicking in. I’m 18, almost 19, but thank you for your concern.”

“How do you know everyone’s names?”

“Rio, Rio, Rio.” The young man sat on the floor, away from the majority of the group. Jakarta walked to him and squatted, looking him in the eye. “As I’ve dearly told the Professor, I’m a very good listener and an even better planner. Now, can we please tend to the injured? So they won’t die?”

Everyone nodded and she got right to work. Seeing Nairobi was well, she told her to step aside and make space for Palermo and Denver.

“Someone give me the medical kit I know you have somewhere.”

Estocolmo tossed her a box with a red cross on it that barely missed Helsinki’s head. “You two, where did you get shot?”

“He got shot in the forearm and I got shot in the leg,” Denver mentioned, trying to gesture to the places but failing. He winced with what Jakarta could only describe was excruciating pain. She prayed that the kit had a way to anesthetize before the cutting, because if not, the two men were so screwed.

“Ok, not bad. Oh, good, two cold sprays. Someone get them something to bite on while I remove the bullets and sew the wounds.” No one made a sound. Instead, they looked at her with various degrees of amazement and worry, making an attempt to understand what was happening. “Someone? Hello!”

When no one answered again, she ripped two pieces of fabric from one of the pillows and stuffed them into the men’s mouths. “If you get an infection from this, it’s not my fault. Also, you roll up your sleeves and you roll up your pants.”

The kit had two scalpels, which she took out right away. She vigorously sprayed the men’s wounds.

“Guys and gals and nonbinary pals, let’s go.”

***

“There you go.” She patted Denver’s leg and stepped away. “If no one else is injured, I think we can start this thing. Professor?”

“Yes, yes, go ahead.”

She stood next to the table where all her models were. “Dear students, please sit. Class is about to start.”

One by one, the robbers sat on the floor and each other’s laps. The Professor sat away from the group, in the opposite corner of the room, where Rio had been sitting an hour ago.

“I’m sure many of you are wondering a few things about me. First, I am 18, no need to worry about anything. Second, since we have this thing of going by city names, call me Jakarta.”

“Why are we taking orders from a teenager?” The man adjusted his eyepatch and she made a mental note to ask about it later, because there was definitely a cool story behind it. He’d also just got shot, so he was definitely a tough son of a bitch. An interesting one, at that.

“Because I am your only shot at saving Lisboa.”

“Wasn’t she executed?” he continued.

“No. You know how you tricked them into thinking you were escaping? They tricked you into thinking she was executed.”

“Liar. How do you know this?” Denver asked. The blonde woman next to him straightened her back and shot him a sympathetic look. He’d just been shot, and his mind probably wasn’t in the best place right now. That woman had a heart of gold.

“I just happen to know some very important people in the police. Now, can I start explaining this?”

“No. What’s our guarantee you’re not an undercover agent for the police?” Nairobi adjusted the bandages and faced her.

“Scan me for bugs. Do whatever you want. I guarantee you won’t find anything. Can I start explaining the plan so Lisboa actually has a chance?”

“Go ahead.” The man cleaned his glasses again and subtly smiled at her.

“Now that I have permission, we can start this thing. Let the games begin.”


	2. Chapter 2 (Lisboa's POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hope you like the second update in this work :D
> 
> Trigger warnings for this chapter include: short description of physical torture.

_ Drip. Drip. Drip. _

She rolled around in the small mattress and yanked the pillow from under her head. With it, she covered her ears, trying to muffle the never-ending sound of the dripping water in a place she couldn’t see.

The pillow did nothing but tangle her hair even more. She threw it to the other side of the room. It landed less than a meter away, propped up against a wall. What a way to find out how tiny your cell is. She’d been there for probably a few hours, and she could already feel boredom settling in, followed by what she could only describe as fear.

Sleeping on a thin and humid mattress wasn’t pleasant, but she was sure it was better than sleeping on wet stone. Tossing around to try and sleep didn’t work, as several coils threatened to stab her back. And of course they wouldn’t give her sheets, she could and would strangle everyone in the damn building if given the chance.

She heard steps coming towards the iron door, so she sat up in her bed.

A key slid through the keyhole and the door opened. The sound of heels clicking reached her ears, warning her about what, or who, was about to arrive.

“Raquel, darling.”

No. Her name was not for use by torturers, especially ones that were about to give birth to a kid. Anyone that dared to hurt her while talking about teddy bears and cribs was a special kind of psychopath that she didn’t want to know or talk to.

“Don’t call me that.”

Alicia slowly crouched down in front of her. “What do you want me to call you, then? Lisboa?”

Oh, it would be so easy to strangle that damn woman. But after she did that, where would she go? She didn’t have a plan to escape that unknown place. How she missed having a plan and actually knowing what to do.

She decided strangling wasn’t the best option at the moment and gripped the bed even harder, trying to control her killer impulses. If the woman kept that idiotic grin on her face, though, she was willing to ignore the sensible part of her that said murder was a bad choice and and choke the life out of that devil. The baby came to mind, but she thought it would be better to be dead than raised by a person like Alicia.

“I don’t care what you call me, as long as you keep my name out of your mouth.”

“Okay. So, do you miss Sergio?”

No. No. She wouldn’t cry. She couldn’t let Alicia see she could get to her. She needed to be stronger than that. For Sergio. She would be stronger for Sergio. “Yes, I do. I miss him.” She tried her best to keep her voice steady, but her lips still trembled. A small stream went down her cheek. Hopefully Alicia wouldn’t notice that. Alicia couldn’t notice her emotions.

“It’s only been a few hours. Oh, you are so into him. Too bad he thinks you’re dead. Now, get up, I have an interrogatory to do.”

The pregnant woman stood up and gestured towards the door. Raquel got up and followed her out of her cell.

***

_ Drip. _

The interrogation room was even darker than her cell. The only light source in the room was an electric torch hung on the ceiling, pointing at Raquel’s face. She could still hear the maddening drop of water again and again.

_ Drip. _

Her wrists were bound by iron handcuffs, which were bolted to the table. The chair she was sitting on wasn’t the best, but it was what you’d expect the police would give an internationally wanted criminal.

_ Drip. _

The room itself was twice as big as her room, and it only fit a table and two chairs. She could smell something that felt pleasant, but couldn’t find the source. It probably was one of the obnoxious perfumes Alicia loved.

_ Drip. _

“I suppose you’re not going to say how your team is pretending on escaping the bank.”

That woman wasn’t even worth her damn saliva. Of course she wouldn’t tell her.

“That’s okay.” She pulled out of a file a few photos and laid them out on the table. “You see these photos? Your mom and daughter look so happy in these. It would be a shame if your mother was thrown into jail and your daughter into the foster system. The Philippines aren’t the best when it comes to jail cells or taking care of young kids.”

It was enough. “Are you even sure they’re in the Philippines?” At this point, not even Raquel knew. Her mother probably took her daughter to a remote village in Spain, desperate to feel at home again.

“No, but the police can quickly find out.”

She managed to draw a smile. Her mother didn’t use any electronic devices, and her daughter didn’t have any devices herself, so how could the police find them? This weird little slice of her life breathed hope into her again.

“How sad is your life?”

“Oh, it’s very happy. Soon, I’m gonna have a baby boy. Of course, I’m a single mother, but I know I’ll make it work.”

“You know what I meant.”

“Of course I did. Ah, messing with you is fun, indeed. Time for water, honey.”

Time for water? One thing was for sure, the water wasn’t for her to drink. It was probably torture. No, it was definitely torture. Alicia had gone after Rio, pressuring who she thought was the weakest link.

Now, she was her new target. The other weak link.

She wouldn’t let herself be the weakest link. There was a reason she was included in the plan. There was a reason she taught the group how to do things beside the Professor. And it wasn’t because Sergio thought she was the weakest link.

The door opened, and two guards holding buckets of water entered the room. One of them immediately put down the bucket he was holding and closed the door.

“This is how this thing is going to work. As you can see behind you, there are two buckets of water. One is freezing cold, the other is boiling hot. Boys, put them on the table.”

Following a flick of her wrist, the two men did as Alicia told them, almost dropping the buckets on the table. The woman wasn’t kidding when she mentioned the different temperatures of the water in the two buckets, the air around it changed drastically in a matter of seconds.

“Now, the nice gentleman on your right will uncuff you, and both nice men will hold you while I ask you a question. If you refuse to answer, you will burn your right hand and freeze your face. Got it?”

“Go to hell, bitch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Leave any predictions in the comments!


End file.
